


Yellow Camellia

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Category: Gintama
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hijikata swore, this scenario was just a bit too familiar for his liking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Longing

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first chaptered story in a while. It will most likely be in two parts, and you can expect the second half within a week (I already have a good chunk of it written). Enjoy!

Hijikata swore, this scenario was just a bit too familiar for his liking. He had waited, with what little patience he could afford, for her to be home alone. Spying on Yorozuya Gin-chan was so easy it pained him.

So, the first opportunity he had where both that naturally-permed idiot and glasses-stand were gone, he made his move. The stairs creaked under his gait, and even the sound of the Yorozuya steps were much too familiar to him, but he stuffed his free hand into his pocket, walking inside without ringing the bell.

Kagura didn’t move from the couch at his entrance, gaze fixed on the television. So, he dropped the grocery bag he had carried in onto the tabletop, sitting himself on the couch opposite of her. He reached into his breast pocket for his pack of cigarettes, lighting one while he waited. She turned towards him at the commercial break, crossing her legs in a rather surprising display of femininity. It was easy to forget, but she was an adult now.

She inspected the grocery bag of sukonbu with a cursory glance, before she looked him flat in the eye.

“What does the Shinsengumi want with me?”

He took a long drag, exhaling sweet, earthy ash. “I’m not here for the Shinsengumi.”

She pursed her lips, bending over to grab a red package from the bag. “Spit it out, Mayora. What do you want?”

He took another deep breath, wondering how it was he found himself in such an uncomfortable situation. “I’m here about Sougo.”

She scoffed, slipping a strip of pickled seaweed between her teeth. “That sadist? If he needs something from me, he can suck it up and talk to me himself.”

Hijikata agreed, but Okita Sougo was much too proud to ask for help, least of all from Kagura.

The sad thing was, after Kondo _finally_ wore Otae down, the Shinsengumi was not spared from the threats of arranged marriage. Hijikata had been passed over by some strange turn of luck, but that had left Sougo next in line. Why Matsudaira thought a sadist like Okita Sougo would be an ideal husband, Hijikata would never know.

Though, more surprising than the choice in groom was how indifferent Sougo was about it. Hijikata wasn’t sure if he thought he could get out of it, or if he genuinely didn’t care. He had a feeling that Kagura, however, might have something to say about it. Hijikata knew that they weren’t in any relationship, but he had always suspected that she and Sougo had been flitting around each other, hinting at a want for more.

“In two weeks, he’s getting married,” he told her at last, deciding it was best to get right to the point. “She’s some princess from a planet in Andromeda.”

He watched a flurry of deep emotion cross her pale face--a subdued rage mixed with envy and grief, and though he pitied her, he was glad he had approached her nonetheless. Surely, if this was her reaction, she would do something about the situation.

Yet, she reigned it all in.

Hijikata pursed his lips around his cigarette.

“Good for him,” she murmured at last. “What does that have to do with me?”

He sighed. So much for riling her up. “I want you to stop the wedding.”

She snorted, shifting to look back at the television. “If he’s okay with marrying some prissy, spoiled girl, then why should I care?”

Just by her turn of phrase, it was clear she did care. He almost cursed. The pair of them really were a match--so proud that neither was willing to admit there was a problem. Hijikata started to question why he bothered at all, but no matter how annoyed he became by Sougo’s playful murder attempts, he wouldn’t wish the fate of being forced into marriage on an enemy.

Even if Kagura was much too proud to act, he suspected that she was the only one with any chance of getting through to Sougo and stopping him from making a serious mistake.

He reached into his uniform coat to retrieve his checkbook. “Consider it a job.”

She watched him with a disdainful eye.

“I don’t have to accept your job,” she sneered, “and I don’t want your dirty money.”

He flicked the end of his cigarette, ash falling to the floor, and he stared her down with a stony expression.

“You’re telling me you’re not going to do anything?”

She turned her entire body away from him. The commercial break had ended, and her drama was back on.

“You know where the door is,” she replied, not bothering to look at him again.

He couldn’t feel fully surprised--Otae had refused to save Kondo, years back. He slipped his checkbook back into his pocket, realizing he had no choice but to accept that at least he had informed her of the situation.

 

* * *

 

At the soft _shuck_ of the front door shutting once more, Kagura turned off the television. She pivoted to face the spot Hijikata had just been, slinking down on the couch, then kicking both legs up onto the tabletop. The grocery bag of sukonbu rustled under her foot, and she shoved it aside. Half its contents toppled to the floor.

She sighed, then glared at her unpolished toenails.

Kagura wondered if she would have been less upset, had Okita married without her knowledge, and she had learned of it after the fact. Frankly, she felt insulted that he hadn’t told her himself. They saw each other on a regular enough basis, yet he kept his lips sealed shut, and Mayora had to break the news to her.

They had known each other for years, had, she liked to think, grown to be friends. Friends told friends when they got engaged to Amanto princesses.

What was he playing at, keeping it secret from her? Of course she’d be happy for him. Of course she’d want the best for him.

Her eyes stung. She covered her face with her arm.

Kagura had no right to feel upset. She had fought him at every step, and if he had ever tried to start something more with her, she would have rejected him with a laugh. Perhaps she had deluded herself into believing that she had all the time in the universe. Eventually, she would reach the inevitable place of being ready. She had always thought that eventually, their rivalry would naturally morph into a real relationship. It had seemed so embarrassingly obvious to her.

She must have read into it too much.

The door opened again, and she sat up straight, wiping her face on her sleeve and giving a sharp sniffle. The familiar banter between Gintoki and Shinpachi filled the office, and she stood, passing them as she made for the entryway.

“It’s going to rain,” Shinpachi pointed out as she slid open the door.

Kagura nodded, staring out into the gray. She left her umbrella, walking into the cool afternoon.

...  
She meant to wander aimlessly, like a dramatic heroine from a romance film, but she still somehow found herself stepping down a familiar path. She stared at her feet, and it started the drizzle. By the time she reached her destination, her bangs adhered to her face, her clothes sopping.

Startled by her appearance, Otae quickly ushered her in.

“You found out about Okita-kun,” she decided in a quite voice, handing Kagura a towel. “Isao told me a few days ago.”

Otae had only to observe her for a moment before she was leading her down the hall. “Give me a moment. I’ll get a bath ready for you.”

Warm moisture trickled over the arch of her cheeks, diluting into the cold rainwater that still clung to her skin. She didn’t have a word to say, and Otae didn’t need to hear a thing to know exactly how she felt. Perhaps it was the few years she had on her, or the new motherly instincts.

Part of Kagura still couldn’t understand why Otae had married Kondo, but she seemed happy in a peaceful, serene way. She was satisfied; she wanted for nothing. In a few months, her small baby-bump would be more pronounced.

The bath was warm, and she sat in the water, hugging her knees as she stared ahead. She should have been furious that he thought he could just leave her behind and marry some stranger, when she had been at his side for years. Yet, her anger fizzled out to make way for exhaustion. Kagura almost fell asleep there, and when Otae came to softly scold her for letting her hands and feet wrinkle, she wanted to slip into a futon.

She helped her into a violet kimono adorned with pale, yellow camillia, before sitting Kagura down to brush her still-damp hair.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked, her tone gentle and cheery.

Kagura spoke barely over a whisper. “Nothing.”

Otae, her hand full of vermilion locks, paused. “Kagura-chan--”

She continued to stroke her hair.

“Anego, if he was interested in me, he wouldn’t be marrying someone else.”

Otae huffed then, adding extra force as she pulled her hair up. Kagura winced at the unnecessary tugging, biting her lip to keep herself from complaining. Once she finished, Otae physically turned her about.

“That’s _bullshit_ , Kagura-chan,” she chided, “and you know that.”

The next she knew, her lips were being painted, a small ornament being slid into her hair.

“Men are idiots,” Otae continued. “They don’t think about how a girl might react when they do something stupid, and they know nothing about a girl’s feelings. Okita-kun is just a man, so he’s dense, and no matter what hints you might drop, he isn’t going to pick up on it. Women are taught to be subtle and coy, but sometimes you need to slap them in the face to get a man’s attention.”

She held up a mirror with a small smile, and Kagura stared at her reflection. Too used to throwing herself together every morning, she barely recognized herself.

“Anego, are you suggesting I go confess to an engaged man?”

Otae giggled. “I’m suggesting you go slap him in the face! Remind him of what he really wants.”

Kagura’s lips wobbled, betraying her emotional fragility. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but before she could argue, Otae was guiding her back to the front door, handing her a spare umbrella and a _haori_ to wear over the kimono.

“You look beautiful,” she told Kagura, adjusting the _haori_ slightly.

She barely had a chance to slip on a pair of _zori_ before she was been shoved back out into the rain.

 

* * *

 

The moment she was out from under Otae’s influence, Kagura knew she couldn’t do something as reckless as tell Sougo how he made her feel. She wasn’t looking to get mocked by that incurable sadist.

For an hour, she rambled, careful to keep the borrowed kimono dry, until it occurred to her that even if he was unable to be an adult in this situation, she was. She didn’t waste any time, making her way to the Shinsengumi headquarters.

It was Yamazaki that let her in with a bewildered look.

“Kagura-san?” he finally asked, clearly uncertain.

She sighed, nodding. After she thought about it, she should have returned to the Yorozuya to change into her own clothing. She probably looked ridiculous, wearing such a feminine kimono, and makeup no less, especially when considering what she usually wore. It was too late for that now, though, so she had no choice but to follow the bland spy in.

“I’m here to see the Sa--” she grit her teeth for a moment, then corrected herself. “--Okita. Is he here?”

Or was he blowing off his duties, napping under some tree to avoid the rain?

“He’s in his quarters,” Yamazaki replied, a tinge of awe in his tone.

Did she really look that different? Kagura almost reconsidered making a run for it, but then she was being shown into a quaint room with sparse decorations. He was half out of uniform, jacket thrown aside and white sleeves rolled up as he applied a light coat of oil to the blade of his well cared for sword.

“Kagura-san is here to see you, Sir,” Yamazaki announced.

At first he didn’t look up from his maintenance work, grumbling, “China, I don’t have time to play with monsters right now. Don’t you have someone else to--”

He glanced towards her then, his mouth promptly clamping shut as he stared at her, standing out on the _engawa_. She took his sudden silence as enough of an invitation to enter, ignoring the warmth of her cheeks and neck. Yamazaki left, and she entered, kneeling to close the door, then moving to sit on the tatami, across from him.

Still, he continued to gape at her. Only more embarrassed by his speechlessness, she folded her hand onto her lap, glancing downward.

“What...are you doing?” he finally questioned.

She forced a smile. “I came to congratulate you.”

Kagura knew he could read her perfectly by the way he frowned. He returned his sword to its sheath, setting it aside. Yet, she was proud of herself; she had made it this far without beating his skull in, when all she wanted to do was pummel him into a bloody pulp and ask why.

She half expected him to accuse her of lying.

His nonchalance astounded her. “Oh, I see.”

She reminded herself to be mature, smile clearly strained. “So, what’s she like?”

He leaned back, casually propping himself up with his hands behind him. More astonishing than his nonchalance was his simple cruelty.

“Gorgeous, of course. Rich too, since she’s of nobility. I won’t have to work another day of my life, and I can have all the fun I want, turning that sweet, little princess into my perfectly submissive pet. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

She formed fists with her hands so tight that her knuckles turned white, and she almost thought the bone would force its way through her skin.

“I guess you can come to the wedding,” he carried on. “I’m sure you’d enjoy getting some free food out of it, since Danna can barely afford to feed you.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised by his behavior, and now she was glad she hadn’t barged into his room to confess whatever stupid feelings she had for him. Kagura could barely understand why she had thought he was a good person to become attached to in the first place.

“I can’t wait,” she managed to utter, her lips pressed into a thin line.

An awkward, wordless moment passed between them, before she recognized that this was her limit. If she didn’t leave within a minute, she might just kill him.

Hurriedly, she got to her feet again, her motions somewhat clumsy, as she was unused to coordinating herself in such confining kimono. “I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll let you get back to work.”

She straightened her clothes and rushed out the room, only for him to stop her at the door.

“China, you’re no fun,” he complained.

“I really hope you find happiness,” she replied, before sliding his _shoji_ shut, hard enough to knock it off its track.


	2. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to post this second chapter much, much sooner. I had already written it and only needed to finish the ending and work on editing, but my computer decided to be a complete douche and deleted everything. I was lucky I had already posted the first half, but I needed to rewrite about 6 pages of work that I was mostly proud of. I don't really feel completely satisfied with what I rewrote, but I'm not sure what else I can do with it. Sorry if it's complete crap! I tried...

Sougo flinched, cursing under his breath. He scrambled to stick his head outside, only to see Kagura was long gone. He decided to forgo fixing his door, and ran along the _engawa,_ snatching a black umbrella as he rushed out the Shinsengumi compound in the hopes of catching her. The streets were empty however, the rain undoubtedly to blame. There were only so many places she could go, he decided, scowling as he ran, unable to maintain his pace while keeping completely dry.

 He barged into Yorozuya Gin-chan, storming into the office area to find Gintoki picking his nose at the desk, Shinpachi enraptured by a newly released song by Otsu. He scowled, roughly brushing his fingers through damp hair.

 “Where is she?” he asked, not hiding his impatience.

 “Who?” Gintoki drawled back, not at all concerned by his urgency.

 He clarified. _“China._ Where’s _China?”_

 Gintoki shrugged, and it became exceedingly obvious that the Yorozuya men would be unhelpful. 

 “We haven’t seen her for a few hours. What did she do now?”

 Sougo didn’t reply, already out the door to check elsewhere, leaving his umbrella behind to favor speed. He wasn’t sure what bothered him so much, perhaps it was how she came to visit, looking and acting like a complete stranger. She had looked beautiful, dressed up in what he knew to be a borrowed kimono (though she always looked beautiful).

 He tried to not let his mind linger on such dangerous thoughts, not willing to face the potential consequences. In fact, lingering on Kagura at all was dangerous, and he had to question why he was chasing her at all. 

 It would accomplish nothing for him, not when he had decided it was time to move on. He had reached the point of realizing she would never see him as more than a rival, and with no other objective than self-preservation, Sougo had slowly backed away. They still saw each other frequently enough, but after their spats, he didn’t stick around as he might have before. He stopped treating her to ramen, battered and bruised, sitting by her at his favorite vendor, and he stopped listening to her complain about Gintoki and her so-called idiotic brother.

 What hurt more than anything was the fact she didn’t notice any difference. It only meant he was doing the right thing, though, so he ignored whatever pain he might have felt and did his best to let her go.

 When Matsudaira approached him, pleading his help make a beneficial connection with an Amanto government through marriage, he didn’t refuse. He knew that if it wasn’t one boring woman he didn’t care about, it would be another, and it seemed pointless to put off what was inevitable. 

 It wasn’t as if Kagura would care either way, or so he thought.

 He searched all of Kabuki-cho, from their park bench, to the small, family-owned grocery store she often bought sukonbu, to cafes she couldn’t afford to so much as look at the menu. There was only one place left; Kagura always had looked up to Kondo’s wife like a sister.

 When he stood out in the yard, fully drenched, he wondered why he hadn’t looked there in the first place. 

 Kagura had her face buried in Otae’s shoulder, arms around the woman, her entire body shaking as she cried. Sougo is certain he has never felt so angry in his life.

 “China!” he roared, sloshing through the small lake that had formed in the yard to stand closer, “What the hell is your problem?”

 Her face shot up, and she whipped around to stare at him with a mixture of shock and horror. Her eyes were red and damp, and they widened as she got to her feet.

 “What the hell is _my_ problem?” she shrieked back, marching out onto the _engawa_ to roughly gesture at him _._ “What the hell is _yours?”_

 He clenched his teeth, his jaw tight with rage, rain still pouring down on him. “You suddenly show up, acting like a complete stranger. What am I supposed to think?”

 She grasped a nearby pillar, and he couldn’t tell if it was for restraint, or if she physically couldn’t stand. Her lips wobbled.

 “Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?” she shouted over the downpour. “After all these years, you can’t trust me? I’ve stood by your side through everything, even when I didn’t really like you, or agree with you--”

 He was close enough to see the moisture that clung to her eyelashes, to see the paths her tears had taken as they fell down her cheeks.

 “It wouldn’t have changed anything!” he bellowed, chest heaving. He couldn’t stand this. “Nothing was ever going to change between us! I can’t just wait around forever, agonizing over you, China. Did you honestly think I would? That you could play with my emotions for months and years, and I’d be okay with that?”

 “Sougo--”

 He hated himself. More than that, he hated how pointless tell her this was. “I’m not going to make myself miserable while you twiddle your thumbs.”

 New tears formed in her eyes, too blue and too deep. He never wanted to make her cry. Reaching out to her, however, was impossible. Sougo held his fists at his side, refusing to budge, and his feelings for her gripped him with slim chances of ever ebbing, even now.

 His voice lower, he said, “Don’t pretend you suddenly care about me, China. The only reason you’re upset now is because you don’t want to lose your playmate. For once, grow up.”

 He gazed up at her expression to see the devastation he left in wake of his accusation.

 

* * *

 

After coming to recognize that Kagura had no intention of parting with Edo, Umibozu had gifted her with a _furisode_ on her eighteenth birthday. It was an elegant garment made of a rich, burgundy silk, and was the most expensive item in her wardrobe. When she wore it, a cluster of pale hydrangea stretched around her thighs and spread downward to the bottom edge of the silk.

 She had few opportunities to wear such fine clothing, as she rarely attended events that required such an elaborate kimono, and she had almost forgotten that she owned it. It was on the morning of Sougo’s wedding day, when Gintoki emerged from his room in formal attire, that she recalled her _furisode_ , delicately folded and kept in a wooden box.

 Gintoki didn’t say a word to her, and while she had never mentioned how she felt about Sougo marrying, she knew he had pieced it together. In the short weeks since his wedding had been announced and invitations had been sent out, Kagura had spent the majority of her time cooped up in her closet. Gintoki and Shinpachi had been careful to give her space, and Kagura couldn’t tell if it was out of pity or fear.

 Whatever the case, she had no intention to watch Sougo marry some stranger, denying him a final chance to ridicule her.

 Gintoki left, and she was alone.

 She found herself digging for the _furisode_ , kneeling on the floor as she lifted the lid from the box. Kagura let her fingers graze the fine material, and her vision blurred. 

 Okita Sougo--her rival, her best friend, the only man she wanted--was lost to her. 

 Her life wasn’t over, and she knew that, but it felt as if a good portion of it had been scooped out with a melon baller, and with nothing else to fill the empty space, she was left hollowed and bleeding. Briefly, she considered taking up her father’s long-standing offer to travel space and train to be a hunter.

 It sounded an awful lot like running away, though, and she didn’t want to give Sougo the satisfaction of beating her.

 Her thought process continued thusly, slowly spiraling until she was in a state of despondence. It was only when she heard a soft sigh that she turned away from her _furisode_. 

 Otae stood in the entrance to the Yorozuya office, shoulders set back and hands on her hips.

 “Kagura-chan,” she reprimanded, “why aren’t you dressed yet? We’re going to be late.”

 “Anego,” she breathed, “I’m not--”

 “Oh yes you are,” Otae interrupted, pulling back her sleeves. “If you had told him how you felt before, we wouldn’t need to break up a wedding _now.”_

 Kagura blinked at Otae, unable to stop the whirlwind of activity as she quickly dressed her, folding and tying heavy silk with practiced ease. Once more, her hair was pulled back into an elaborate up-do, and her lips were painted with red pigment. Kagura was starting to feel like a plaything for Otae to dress up and play with, but she dared not complain. She was wise enough to fear Otae’s wrath.

 “You really are a beautiful woman, Kagura-chan,” Otae murmured as they stood before a mirror. Kagura swept aside a stray lock of vibrant vermilion, curling it behind her ear. She wasn’t good at being feminine, and knew nothing about how to act like a lady, and she partially blamed Gintoki’s influence, but she simpered at her reflection nonetheless. 

 “We really are going to be late,” Otae chided, pulling her down the stairs two at a time, and Kagura struggled to keep upright, nearly stumbling as they went.

 A patrol car was waiting for them in the street, a lower-ranked Shinsengumi officer opening the door to the backseat without fail. Otae slid in after her, telling the officer to turn on his siren as they left. He dared not refuse the Commander’s wife, especially not when she gave him a deceptive, friendly smile that promised pain with disobedience.

 Kagura wondered momentarily who was really running the Shinsengumi. 

 They sped forward, and Otae folded her hands into her lap. “We need to talk battle plans,” she casually remarked.

 Kagura huffed. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 “We don’t have any other options, Kagura-chan.”

 “But he doesn’t even--”

 “No buts,” she insisted. “Okita-kun is love with you.”

 The car swerved slightly, the poor officer up front taken by surprise by this revelation. Otae shot him a threatening look, and he stared at the road, afraid to meet her gaze through the rearview mirror.

“He loves you and you love him. It would be ridiculous if two people who were stupidly in love with each other didn’t end up together because they were too busy being stubborn.”

“That sadist _isn’t_ in love with me,” Kagura asserted. “If he was, he wouldn’t be marrying some princess.”

Otae sighed, shaking her head. “Kagura-chan, he stood out in the rain to tell you that he was _agonizing_ over you. What do you think that means?”

Kagura was silent, and before she could properly analyze what Otae had said, the car came to an abrupt stop and she was being shoved out.

“Now go, tell him how you really feel, before you really do lose him forever.” 

Otae’s words spurred something in Kagura. She dared not call it hope, since she knew Sougo was determined to marry his princess, but perhaps she could call it longing. It churned in her chest, tightening to the point of causing discomfort, and she knew, once she saw his face, it would be better. If she could see him, it would be fine.

She charged forward, scurrying despite the restrictions her furisode presented. Kagura burst into the hall reserved for the event, and heads turned. She didn’t stop to return the curious and bewildered stares, and as she stormed down the isle, a sense of self-righteous fury burned in her bones.

At last, he pivoted around to see what the commotion was. He uttered under his breath, “For fuck’s sake, China--”

She whirled back her fist, her draping sleeves swinging as she hurtled it up at his jaw. His bride screamed. He hobbled back a few steps, glaring as he steadied himself, wiping blood from his mouth. Kagura watched, fists still clamped, as he dug around his mouth with his tongue, only to spit out a tooth.

“You’re so lucky my insurance covers dental,” he snarled, unsheathing his sword in a swift motion, charging with no abandon.

The princess squealed, and Kagura wasn’t sure what shocked the woman more, her sudden, violent appearance, or her future husband’s equally violent reaction. “Okita-san! What is--”

Kagura dodged the wide swing of his sword. She interrupted his bride, the words coming from her mouth before she could stop herself. “I can’t believe you thought you could marry someone who wasn’t me!”

She should have been embarrassed, but she felt liberated by the statement. Kagura made a sharp jab for his throat, taking advantage of his incredulity. He coughed, grimacing as he brought a hand up to his neck.

“You’re doing this _now?”_ One handed, he brought down his sword on the crown of her head.

She caught the blade between her palms, shooting daggers with her eyes. “Am I going to get another chance?”

Both in a stalemate--she was unable to kick him while confined by the _furisode--_ they leapt away from each other. He was seething; if he hadn’t been human, she would have expected him to start breathing fire. Kagura swallowed, uncertain once more. 

What was she doing? Did she think she could change a thing for the better by barging into his wedding ceremony and admitting to him that she wanted to fight, with him and by his side, until she died?His hair was disheveled, and Kagura couldn’t decide if she should smooth it away from his eyes, or yank on the ends.

The room was silent, stunned by their performance, and she met the gaze of Gintoki from across the hall. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him look so proud, not unlike a father who had watched his daughter grow up. When he gave her a subtle, encouraging nod, courage swelled in her chest.

Sougo attacked again, and she ducked bellow the brandish of his blade, hiking up the ends of her _furisode_ to sweep his legs out from under him. He landed with a solid _thud,_ his sword clattering when she nudged it away from his hand, and she placed a foot on his chest, adding enough weight to keep him in place without breaking bones. 

“I can’t believe I’m in love with an idiot sadist like you,” she growled.

He gawked up at her. Yet, she felt relieved after her confession. When she let her eyes drop to meet his, emotion surged in her. She loved him. She _really_ did. She couldn’t even fear the fact she had handed him the power to utterly destroy her.

He barked a laugh. She should have known, Kagura supposed. Still, she kept her shoulders straight. Regret was not an option.

“I can’t believe _I’m_ in love with a crazy glutton like you.”

Kagura beamed at him. Her face warmed as her cheeks started to ache, but she laughed back at him. _This_ was so stupid. 

He chuckled at her rambunctious laughter, faintly at first, until he was pounding the carpet with his fist, his voice nearly as loud as hers. Kagura released him from underfoot, crumbling to land beside him on the carpeted floor, her bare legs exposed from the lackadaisical way she sat. He forced himself up with a grunt.

“You look pretty today,” he allowed, though his tone begrudging. 

Someone behind her, an Amanto dignitary, was howling at Matsudaira; they had evidently been promised an attractive samurai to wed their princess, who, in her shock and humiliation, could be heard sniveling at the front of the room.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m _always_ pretty.”

The intonation of his voice was near-inaudible, but she still heard him. “I know.”

Sheepish, she snickered, and the tips of his ears and either peak of his cheeks turned a feeble, pink color. 

Unsurprisingly, he tried to play off his embarrassment with a shrug. “This doesn’t change anything, you know.”

“Of course not,” she smirked.

Matsudaira could be heard snarking back at the dignitary. _It’s not my fault all these Shinsengumi morons have weird tastes in women. I’m done trying to help them find wives!_

“If you wanted to kiss me, though,” she resumed, “that might be okay sometimes.”

His mouth opened and shut, before his lips pressed into a straight line. To her amazement, his face turned fully crimson at this not-so-subtle suggestion. His undisguised gaze fell to her lips for a moment, before he was clambering to his feet. She lifted her hand, and he took it automatically, hauling her up as well.

He didn’t drop it again, as she expected him to, his large, warm fingers lightly squeezing her smaller ones. It was nice in a way she had yet to familiarize herself with. She gripped his hand back.

He had composed himself again instantly to tell Matsudaira, “Yo, old man, we’re leaving now, so you can take care of this.” 

He shot a peace sign at the princess, who had no choice but to watch them swiftly exit hall in horror.

Kagura had the chance to hear Kondo exclaim, “Look Toshi, our boy is all grown up,” before they were on the other side of the thick, wooden doors.

He ignored the sound of glass breaking, and in his impatience, immediately bent over to crush their lips together. 

Wryly, she supposed _sometimes_ could mean _now,_ and every moment that followed. So long as he worked hard for it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hydrangea represent pride.
> 
> Let me know what you think? I'm not fond of the ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Some quick notes: 
> 
> Yellow Camellia: according to hanakotoba, represent longing.
> 
> Engawa: the strip of wooden flooring immediately outside the window/door in a Japanese home. I'm sure everyone's seen them in anime before, I just wasn't sure everyone knew what it was called.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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